Teaching Harry
by Veserus
Summary: [COMPLETE] Harry needs to take Advanced Potions in order to become an Auror. Harry doesn’t have the grades, so what does the Headmaster do?
1. The Manipulation of Professor S Snape

Authors Note

IMPORTANT: If you are reading this story with the expectation of delving into a well written story full of mystery and suspense, twists and turns and excitement, please press the back button. You will be sorely disappointed. I am writing in the effort of improving my writing style, and for enjoyment. I would appreciate any and all _constructive criticism, and I emphasise the word __constructive. Flames serve no purpose whatsoever. This story is practically finished, with only some minor reworking to do, so it is unlikely to be changed. However I will certainly use any good advice for my next story, which is already planned._

I will be posting new chapters for this story every couple of days. It contains 13 chapters, and is approximately 11,000 words in length.

**I don't have a beta, so if anyone would like to beta for my next story it would be most appreciated. The next story I write will be an 'R' rating though, so you will need to be okay with some very dark story lines.**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read. 

Summary: Harry needs to take Advanced Potions in order to become an Auror. Harry doesn't have the grades, so what does the Headmaster do?

Spoilers: All five books

Characters: HP/SS Not Slash!

Rating: PG

**Chapter 1: The Manipulation of Professor S. Snape**

It's clear that Harry has the makings of a great Auror. He is brave, heroic, resourceful, a great leader, not to mention superb at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Okay, he can also be erratic, foolishly jumping in before giving himself time to completely understand the situation, but that flaw can be eradicated with age, experience, and most of all, discipline. The only thing standing in his way presently is his potions scores. Harry managed an A for his OWL. Acceptable. It was a pass, but not good enough for Advanced Potions, not good enough for Snape, who demands an O, Outstanding. Without potions, Harry can never achieve his dream of becoming an Auror.

So, what is there for a Headmaster to do? A Headmaster, in fact, who feels for Harry like a father does a son? Why, he tries to remedy the situation, much to the utter outrage of Professor S. Snape. Here is the story:

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"ABSOLUTELY NOT! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. THE ABSURDITY OF THE IDEA …." 

Severus Snape was, to say the least, fuming. The barmy old codger, and possibly Severus' only true friend, had finally lost his mind.

"IF YOU THINK I AM GOING TO ENTERTAIN THIS NOTION FOR A SECOND-"

"Now now, Severus, settle down, there's no need for hysterics."

"SETTLE DOWN!? … NO NEED FOR …!? …" Severus was speechless. How the headmaster could even consider this was completely and utterly beyond him.

"Please, Severus, calm down and let's talk about this rationally." Dumbledore said calmly, indicating to Severus to sit down. 

Still fuming, Severus took out his wand and said "Reparo!", and the chair he had just minutes ago demolished, repaired itself. He sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk, giving the esteemed headmaster, (or in Severus' current opinion, the batty old fool) the Snape death glare. 

Dumbledore, immune to the Snape death glare, continued on. "We all know Harry Potter has unlimited potential for an Auror. Consider all the things he's achieved at such a young age. Even you, Severus, would have had great difficulty doing the things he's done. It's a shame that the only thing standing in his way is potions. If we could just give him this opportunity…" Dumbledore tried to reason with Severus, but Severus was simply not in the mood to be reasoned with.

"NOT FOR A SECOND!" Severus roared. "WHAT HAS THAT, THAT INSUFFERABLE, ANNOYING LITTLE SPOILT BRAT EVER DONE! HE'S GOTTEN THROUGH ON SHEER DUMB LUCK! CONSIDER ALL THE LIVES HE'S PUT IT DANGER! HE'S ERRATIC, FOOLHARDY, UNDISCIPLINED, DISRESPECTFUL! SHALL I GO ON?!"

"That won't be necessary, Severus-"

But Severus cut him off. "WHY, IN THE NAME OF MERLIN, SHOULD I EVEN CONSIDER GIVING THAT BOY SPECIAL TREATMENT? NEVER, IN MY FIFTEEN YEARS OF TEACHING AT HOGWARTS, HAVE I EVER CONCENTED TO GIVING ANY STUDENT SPECIAL TREATMENT!"

Dumbledore, however, was quite amused by this statement, considering Severus' treatment of his own Slytherins. He decided to let it go and try a different tact.

"It is unfortunate, that your disloyalty to Voldemort has been discovered, Severus."

'Unfortunate wouldn't be the word I'd use,' Severus thought, still glaring at the headmaster, and wondering where on earth he was going with this. He waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"You have given so much to the Order."

'And this is how you repay me.' But Dumbledore's words stuck a nerve. Now that Severus can no longer spy for the Order, he was at a loss as to what use he could be. He felt as useless as that idiot Black was.

"I would like to repay you," Dumbledore said, as if reading Severus' thoughts (which he probably was), "by offering you the teaching position of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore smiled, and thought. 'I've got you.'

'You manipulative bastard.' Although Severus' ears pricked at the thought of obtaining his long sought after goal of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

"All I am asking is for you to go to Privet Drive, and teach Harry potions over summer. If he is not up to standard by the time summer has ended then I will not push you into accepting Harry into your advanced potions class." 

Severus glared at Dumbledore for a very long time. Finally, through clenched teeth, and with a nauseating feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, Severus said, "Fine".

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	2. Harry's Reflection

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Authors Note: Thanks for the good reviews! I was so happy. So I decided to upload the next chapter earlier than anticipated. Not a lot of activity in this chapter, but it is important as it sets up things for later on.

**Chapter 2: Harry's Reflection**

Harry was troubled, lying on the cold patch of earth behind the large hydrangea bush he discovered last year as an excellent hiding place. Of course, as a hiding place it was useless now, as whenever Harry went missing, this was the first place the Dursleys looked. In fact, just two days ago, Dudley Dursley thought it would be fun to lean out the window and drop a bucket of ice cold water down on top of Harry's head, whilst he was sleeping in the bushes. This particular event led to an angry Harry jumping up and running inside after Dudley. Dudley might be strong, but his enormous size made him slow and Harry, being light and quick was able to catch up to Dudley in no time. Before Harry could do anything, however, his Aunt Petunia walked in quite irate about mud being splashed all over the house. Needless to say, Harry was sent to his bedroom immediately and deprived of supper.

So why does Harry still use this particular spot? Well, he still finds it a convenient place to listen to the news, as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have a tendency to glare at him when he tries to sit in the lounge room with them. Besides, he can easily view the activity around the neighbourhood without being seen. With Voldemort's return, Harry was very paranoid, and with good reason. Voldemort may have wanted him dead when he was a baby, but he knew that Voldemort's desire for Harry's demise had grown exponentially. After thwarting Voldemort yet again a few weeks ago, it was personal.

At present, Harry was neither listening to the news nor watching the activity of the neighbourhood. You see, the weather was scorching and the bushes were cool … and the Dursleys were out. They had left earlier in the day when Harry was on one of his walks around the neighbourhood and had conveniently forgotten to tell him they were going. He was locked out. He assumed that they didn't want to leave him alone in the house where he could destroy it with his criminal behaviour. Harry snorted at this thought. The only one who was criminal at the Dursleys was Dudley. Dudley was still stalking the neighbourhood, looking for more innocent young kids to prey on. His latest victim until a few days ago was still Mark Evans, who Dudley had first started picking on last year. That is, until Dudley returned home one night as white as a sheet. Harry knew it had something to do with Mark, as Dudley had left him alone since, but as to what Mark did to scare Dudley so, he had no idea, and Dudley wasn't talking.

Harry was trying to enjoy a brief moment of solitude before the return of his most hated relatives, when the constant nagging and berating would re-emerge. His wish for tranquillity never eventuated, as his thoughts, as they always do these days, reverted to one Sirius Black, Harry's beloved godfather who died merely weeks ago. Harry blamed Snape for tormenting Sirius throughout the year, Dumbledore for insisting that Sirius remain virtually imprisoned, hell, he even put a small portion of blame on Hermione for liking that horrible elf. But mostly, Harry blamed himself. If he hadn't have been to blasted stupid, rushing off like that to the Department of Mysteries, Sirius would still be alive today.

Harry's reverie was cut short by an owl soaring towards him, getting ready to deliver a letter. The owl perched on the bush next to Harry, and lifted a leg, indicating to Harry to take the letter, which he did. After sending the owl away (it was looking rather annoyed as Harry didn't have any refreshments to give the owl at the time), Harry opened his letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this missive finds you in good health._

_I trust by now you would have received your OWL results. Congratulations on such a great effort, especially considering everything you've had to contend with over the past few years. I understand that the only thing standing in your way of becoming an Auror is your potions grade. I have taken the liberty of arranging some tutoring for you. If you can display the necessary competency in potions by the end of the summer, you will be able to study Advanced Potions in your sixth year. Your tutor would reside at Number __11 Privet Drive__ for the duration._

_Should you choose to accept this offer, please respond at your earliest convenience._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Professor A. Dumbledore, Headmaster of __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Harry was astounded. He had given up on the idea of becoming an Auror a while back, when he discovered that he would need to obtain an 'O' for potions. He knew that he had no hope of getting such a high grade, especially with a teacher who loathes him so completely. Harry has been at a loss as to what he could do in the future (assuming he'd survive that is, with that pesky prophecy hanging overhead). Now he had the chance of becoming an Auror like he dreamed of. Not a huge chance, he'd still need to reach 'O' standard, but still a chance. It would be hard work of course (school over summer, what a drag!), but maybe if Dumbledore had arranged a more suitable tutor. Harry couldn't believe for a second that the tutor would be Snape. He's much too busy with the Order and would never accept a job which could cause him to spend more time with Harry. 

But what about the Dursley's? They would never agree to have one of 'his kind' in the neighbourhood, encouraging his 'abnormality' by teaching him how to make enlarging potions that causes a persons tongue to grow to an enormous size, for example. But then, they wouldn't have to know, would they? He could come up with some sort of cover story as to where he went each day, couldn't he? Surely the Dursley's would want Harry gone as much as possible. He could say that he found a job! That would be a perfect excuse as he would have to be gone at specific times every day. The Dursley's would insist that Harry give them his pay as reimbursement for he's 'keep', but that's okay, he could just exchange some of his galleons in Gringotts for muggle money, and give them that. It would be worth it.

Convinced, Harry laid back down on the ground, waiting his relatives return. As soon as he could get inside, he had a reply of acceptance to write.

For the first time since Harry returned home from Hogwarts, he smiled.

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	3. Meet the Potions Master … again

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Authors Note: Thanks everybody again for the good reviews! Harry finds out who his tutor is in this chapter. Lessons start next chapter. 

Prophetess Of Hearts: I'm not saying what happens in my story, but in terms of the books, yes I'm very intrigued by the fact that this (now 11 year old) boy is called Mark Evans. JKR is very specific with her names. It can't be a co-incidence.

**Chapter 3: Meet the Potions Master … again.**

Harry received a letter from Dumbledore about a week ago stating that Harry would begin his tutoring lessons on the 24th July. It was now the day before these lessons were due to start and he still hadn't told Uncle Vernon.

Harry had his cover story for the Dursleys all worked out. One of their neighbours had injured his back and is now unable to do household chores without aggravating it so he asked Harry if he would like to do some work, 4 hours a day, 5 days a week, which conveniently coincided with his potions lessons. Harry was also able to get Hermione to exchange some of his Galleons for muggle money. All that was left was getting the green light from Uncle Vernon.

They were sitting around the dining table, eating the wilted lettuce and soggy salad they were all still forced to endure due to Dudley's diet. Uncle Vernon was telling them about his day at work. He was particularly pleased as he was able to fire 3 people, yell at a few more, and had acquired a new high paying client for his drill company. He was very happy.

Harry thought, given Uncle Vernon's mood, that this would be a good opportunity to approach his Uncle about his pretend job. 

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked demurely, not wanting to upset his Uncle with his presence.

Uncle Vernon was so happy with his day that he forgot to ignore Harry. "Yes, Harry?" he answered without looking at him.

"I, er, well," Harry stammered, trying to work out how to word this.

"Well, spit it out, boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped, already getting irritated.

"One of our neighbours down the road has injured his back and he asked if I could do some work for him around the house. He'd pay me 50 pounds a week." Harry said it quickly.

Uncle Vernon looked at Harry disbelievingly. "Why would one of _your_ kind want to work in the _real_ world. What are you up to boy?"

"Nothing Uncle Vernon, I swear, I just thought it would be good to get some experience working, you know, earn a bit of money over the summer." Harry looked down towards his meal, trying to control his emotions. He really wanted these lessons, and didn't want to do anything to further aggravate his uncle.

"If I get the job, I would be spending less time here." Harry tried. 

Uncle Vernon eyed Harry suspiciously. He opened his mouth to say something, more than likely something callous, but then clamped his mouth shut and his face became completely blank, as if hypnotised.  After a while, Uncle Vernon finally said "Okay boy, do what you wish, although I can't imagine anyone wanting to employ someone like _you_." Uncle Vernon said as if he felt that Harry was something revolting to be wiped off one's shoe, which, Harry knew, was exactly what Uncle Vernon thought of him. "However", Uncle Vernon continued, eyeing Harry's dishevelled hair, baggy hand-me-down jeans and t-shirt, and glasses which were held together with tape, "You will have to start paying board. Lord knows I've spent enough on keeping you as it is."

'Bingo', Harry thought, and smiled. But out of the corner of his eye he caught a shadow swiftly gliding into the darkness of the hallway. Harry knew something just happened here, but he couldn't for the life of him work out what.

---

The next day, Harry was gathering all of his potions books and supplies, parchment quills and ink, anything that he thought he would need for his tutoring. Harry was determined to do well this time. He felt that he would actually stand a chance of obtaining the required grade without such a biased teacher.

Harry stored all of his books and such in his bag and ran to 11 Privet Drive. He had to clean up the remains of a vase that Dudley deliberately broke a few minutes beforehand, so he was already running late. Panting slightly from his sprint, Harry knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened.

Harry's anticipation turned to dread when he saw who was standing at the door.

"Tut, tut, Potter. Late for your first potions lesson. 5 points from Gryffindor." Snape sneered, looking down his nose at Harry.

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	4. The First Lesson

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

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**Chapter 4: The First Lesson**

The colour drained from Harry's face. 'No, no, no, not him, not Snape, there's no way'. All hope that Harry felt when he was given this second chance disappeared. If Snape's teaching then Harry had no chance of getting an 'O'.

Snape sneered, "Are you going to stand there like the imbecile that you are or are you going to come in."

As if detached from the rest of him, Harry's legs moved independently inside, whilst his mind was shouting to run, to forget this hopeless pursuit.

As Snape closed the front door, another familiar voice inside his mind said, "You want to become an Auror right? Well this is your chance. Don't let Snape stop you. You've taken on Voldemort four times and survived; surely you can deal with Snape. It was for no small reason that you were put into Gryffindor."

Using all of his Gryffindor courage, Harry said, "Why are you teaching me? Don't you have important things to do for the Order?"

It was if he had struck a nerve, as Snape swiftly turned to look Potter in the eye, his face contorting into a snarl. "It is not your concern what I do for the Order, Potter. And you would do well to remember that despite our current circumstances I am still your Professor and you will refer to me as such." Snape's expression softened slightly, but it was not pleasant by any means. "Another 5 points from Gryffindor for asking questions that do not concern you. I sincerely can't wait until school resumes and your house finds themselves already in the negative in points." Snape smirked, eyeing Harry closely.

Harry, however, was defiant. "You can't take points from Gryffindor. We aren't at Hogwarts now!"

Snape looked down his nose at Harry, revulsion oozing out at every pore. "Maybe not, but believe me when I say that there are many other things I can do to you, things that aren't nearly so _pleasant_."

Snape continued to glare at Harry for some time, and Harry, although it took every ounce of strength he had, stared back. He was not going to allow himself to be intimidated by Snape. This was too important for him.

After what seemed like hours, but was truthfully only a minute, Snape broke the eye lock and strode down the hall of number 11 Privet Drive, clock billowing, expecting Harry to follow. Not wanting to defer to Snape, but knowing he must, Harry followed. 

On the outside, the house looked no different to any other house on Privet drive, which all have not a blade of grass out of place on there beautifully manicured lawns and gardens. Inside, however, was another matter. It was very clear that a wizard lived here. There was not a muggle device in sight. The most obvious thing was the sheer size of the house. It was clearly much bigger on the inside, as Snape and Harry had been walking for at least ten minutes already, yet on the outside the house looked smaller than Number 4. Moving portraits lined the walls, and Harry assumed that they were of Snape's relatives as many of them had Snape's build, or eye's, or nose, or hair, or a combination of each. One portrait could have passed for Snape himself if it weren't for the fact that the man in the portrait was at least sixty years old. He portrayed Snape's facial features exactly, complete with the look of pure loathing when Harry walked past. Torches were placed along the walls for light; there was no electricity. The whole house seemed to be charmed to resemble Snape's dark and dreary dungeons. Harry wondered what the muggle's would think if they ever decided to pay the new resident on Privet Drive a visit.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Snape said, "While I have to endure this torment of tutoring you I will at least be comfortable. I will not have any of those _muggle's_ here." Snape said the word muggle as if it was something nasty. Snape continued with an evil glint in his eyes, "a few have tried to introduce themselves of course, but as soon they approached the front gate they've all suddenly started bolting for their homes. They were all quite a pleasant shade of green."

Harry's stomach turned at the thought of what anti-muggle wards Snape put on the house to make the neighbours run to their homes in nausea.

Snape entered a room at the end of the hall. Harry followed, and saw the room was a small potions lab. As was Snape's office in Hogwarts, there were slimy specimens in jars dispersed throughout the room. On the left hand side of the lab was a workbench with a cauldron placed on top. On the right side sat Snape's desk which was completely covered in scraps of used parchment and books. A small bookcase stood next to the desk, jammed with books. There was a second, much larger lab through the open door at the other side of the room. Snape, noticing Harry looking at this room, swiftly walked over and closed the door. He said to Harry, "that is my private lab; if I ever see you inside it, you will wish you were facing the Dark Lord as you would stand a far greater chance of survival."

Harry, curious as to what Snape might working on, forced himself to direct his attention on Snape. 

"I have set out a cauldron for you on the bench. I want you to brew the Confusion potion that you were shown last year. The ingredients you will need are in the store cupboard to your right. You have one hour."

Harry was perplexed. Snape hadn't given him the instructions for the potion and he couldn't remember the steps. Harry walked towards the cauldron. "Sir, how can I brew this potion without the instructions?"

"You were taught this last year. No wonder you scored so abysmally on your owl, if you can't remember the steps to a simple confusion potion."

Snape sat down at his desk. It was clear that he was not going to offer any more help to Harry, so, thanking his lucky stars that he remembered to bring his potions notes from last year, he looked up the confusion potion. Unfortunately, his notes weren't as organised as they could be, and it took awhile.

"50 minutes, Mr Potter," Snape said smugly, when Harry still hadn't started.

Harry scowled at Snape, but continued to search through his notes. Finally he found them, neatly laid them out on the bench, and began to work.

After about 20 minutes, Harry was startled to find Snape standing directly behind him, as he had been so engrossed in what he was doing.

"You added too much butober juice, Potter. This therefore is useless." Snape waved his wand, and just like last year, his potion vanished. "Start again."

Angry, but not wanting to start a fight, Harry started again.

After Snape vanished his potion the third time, Harry was on the brink of exploding. There was nothing wrong with the last version of the potion, of this he was sure. It was exactly the right colour and texture as described in his notes.

"How am I supposed to finish this potion if you keep vanishing it!?" Harry yelled, knowing that no good was going to come from yelling at Snape, but not being able to stop himself.

Harry thought he heard Snape chuckle. "It would be wise of you to control those emotions of yours Potter, as you should have learnt by the events of last month." Snape sneered, clearing enjoying tormenting Harry.

This statement, however, was far too much for Harry to take. "How dare you! How dare you blame _me_ for Sirius' death!?" This was made even more hurtful to Harry as he truly believed himself responsible.

"I see no other candidates," said Snape, leaning forward, deliberately goading Harry.

"What about you! All year you were tormenting Sirius, telling him how useless he was. You knew how much Sirius hated being locked up in that place, and you did everything you could to remind him of the fact. That all he was good for was housekeeping."

Apart from a slight darkening of Snape's already black eyes, Snape was unaffected by Harry's accusations, and continued with his provocation. "It was not I who foolishly went to the department of mysteries on a self delusional hero's quest. You think yourself better than everyone else? Even if the vision was true, Potter, did you honestly think that you alone could have defeated the Dark Lord and his death eaters and saved your precious godfather. You are just as arrogant as your father."

Harry was beyond angry, he was irrational and ready to lash out at anyone he believed to be responsible for his godfather's death, and Snape was at the top of the list. Harry had his wand out ready to strike. Snape similarly had his wand at the ready.

Calmly, Snape said, "You think you could defeat me in a duel, Potter. I would be most pleased if you were to try, for as soon as you cast your first hex, a ministry owl would appear with your expulsion notice. I, however, am under no such restrictions."

Harry kept his wand tightly clenched in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to hex Snape into oblivion, and to avenge Sirius' death. It was with the thought of Sirius that made Harry release his grip on the wand. As much as he hated Snape, being expelled from Hogwarts was not the way to honour Sirius' memory.

Snape also lowered his wand. "Get back to work, Potter"

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	5. Curiosity is Not Always a Good Thing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

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**Chapter 5: Curiosity is not always a good thing**

Over the next week Harry's lessons with Snape continued to be a torturous affair. Snape did everything he could to torment Harry, making Harry brew the potions at least five times, whether or not they were brewed correctly the first time. Not only that, but Snape also gave Harry plenty of theoretical homework. Harry always found it difficult to do his summer homework at the best of times with the Dursleys always on the lookout for anything strange or abnormal. But Snape's homework alongside the chores he had to complete for the Dursleys, Harry wasn't getting very much sleep at all and was becoming quite irritable.

To make it worse, the last piece of homework Snape had assigned, Harry just couldn't find the answers in any of his potions books or notes. Were he at Hogwarts, he could have looked it up in the library, but, as Snape very well knew, the library was currently inaccessible to him. Harry was quite certain that Snape knew the answers were not any of Harry's textbooks, and he enjoyed seeing Harry squirm everyday when he was forced to tell Snape that he still hadn't completed this homework task.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Harry asked suddenly during his next lesson. Snape had just given Harry yet another lecture on his incompetence.

Snape looked up from the ever-present notes he was working on at his desk to glare at him. Harry was getting quite used to Snape's glares by now, having to put up with them every other minute, so Harry held eye contact, waiting patiently for a reply.

"You are an arrogant little fool, Potter. You have no regard for the rules, and just like your father, you think you are above everybody else." Snape turned back to his own work, not wishing to continue this conversation, but Harry wasn't satisfied. He'd heard these words from Snape many times, but Harry was sure that there had to be something else that made Snape despise him so much.

"I'm not like my father," Harry said simply.

Snape looked up quickly from his work. He was about to say something when Harry said, "You were right. My father was arrogant. What I saw in the pensieve, what my father did to you, I could never do that to anybody, whatever my feelings for them are." Snape's normally harsh expression started to soften just a little until Harry thought, 'except maybe Malfoy, who would deserve it.'

Harry was certain that he had not said those words out loud, but Snape flushed, glaring at Harry as he slowly rose from his chair. "And tell me why, Mr Potter, do you think that Mr Malfoy would deserve such treatment?" He said this very quietly, and by the way his teeth were starting to bear, Harry knew Snape was getting angry (or angrier, as Snape was always angry). 

"Well, sir, er - " Harry stammered. He was sure he had not spoken those words, but then it came to him. 'Legilimency'.

Snape was stalking Harry, slowly moving closer to him as he spoke. "What if I told you, Mr Potter, that young Mr Malfoy has had to endure weekly, sometimes daily beatings his entire life for not living up to his father's unreasonable expectations? Would you still think he deserved to be so horribly humiliated?"

Harry was stunned. Malfoy was being beaten by his father? He always thought Malfoy was a rich, spoilt, pampered little brat. This realisation shook Harry. He no longer knew what to think.

"Do you feel that you are so far above the rest of us that you have to right to declare who deserves what treatment? It is not up to you to decide who deserves what, Potter." Snape was very close to an almost catatonic Harry, close enough for Harry to smell, and feel, Snape's breath on his face.

"You think you are not like your father?" Snape paused, and then spoke very quietly, but forcefully. "You have just proven that you are _exactly like your father."_

With that, Snape turned away towards his desk and said, "I must go to Knockturn Alley for some supplies, Mr Potter. Finish your potion and get out. If I find anything has been touched when I get back, and rest assured I will know if there has, there will be hell to pay."

Snape gathered up the notes he had been working on and put them in his private laboratory before he left. Harry, feeling properly chastised, finished his potion quickly, wanting to get out of there. Once his potion was completed, he bottled a sample for Snape to look at later, and gathered his belongings. He was about to leave when he saw that the door to Snape's private laboratory was left open. Snape usually locks it. Harry knew he should leave it alone; he had made this mistake last year during Occlumency lessons. But as usual, he couldn't help himself. He was just too curious to know what Snape's been working on, it maybe something for the Order.

Slowly, Harry put down his bag and entered the lab. Harry felt sure that Snape wouldn't be back for some time. Just a quick look and he'll go. In the lab, there were even more of those slimy objects in jars, pretty much covering two of the four walls. The third wall contained a floor to ceiling high bookcase, as jammed with books as it could possible get. Along the fourth wall was Snape's desk and more of those jars, and in the middle of the large laboratory were two workbenches. The there were about half a dozen potions brewing on the benches. The potions seemed to be in different stages of progress. One, Harry was pretty sure was Wolfsbane, by the murky grey colour. Snape was probably still brewing the potion for Lupin. The others were differing colours of dirty yellow, scarlet, and blue. He had no idea what these could be. Harry thought, given Snape's personality, that they were probably some kind of poison. One, strangely enough was rainbow. Harry didn't know how one could create a rainbow coloured potion without all the colours mixing in together. Harry approached the bench to look closer at this potion, and saw there were some notes by its side. Harry could barely make out the intelligible scrawl. Snape was clearly in a hurry when he wrote this, but from what Harry could decipher it seemed to be some kind of Persistence potion. Harry had to brew Persistence potions in the past, but this was more complicated than anything he had ever seen. It made the Polyjuice Potion seem like a walk in the park.

"Sometimes it fascinates me, Mr Potter, just how easy it is to lure you."

Harry snapped his head around to see Snape standing in the doorway. He was really, very angry. He started to walk toward Harry.

"I would have thought that after so many _traps you've managed to fallen into, you could take greater care in not delving into places which do not concern you." By the time Snape finished, he was nose to nose with Harry._

"Professor, I - "

"_Silence_! Do you honestly believe, that with your track record, I would just leave you alone here with my door wide open?" Harry could clearly see the cold hard depths of Snape's black eyes. Snape's lips were stretched tight, and his face was pure white with anger.

"You set me up!" Harry accused, trying to back away.

Snape grabbed Harry by the front of his baggy t-shirt and growled, emphasising each word, "_You are easy prey_, Potter. Get out!" and Snape practically threw Harry out the door of his lab. Harry quickly grabbed his bag and fled. 

When Harry arrived back at the Dursleys 10 seconds later, he ran straight up the stairs and into his room, ignoring the call from Aunt Petunia telling him it was about time he got home, he has to clean the garage.

Harry's heart was pounding fast, both from the run, and the fear he felt when he got caught. 'the greasy bastard set me up!' he kept thinking, but another deep voice full of loathing also echoed in his mind, '_you are easy prey_'.

Harry started to shake. If he couldn't spot a simple setup from Snape, how was he ever going to face the most manipulative and evil dark wizard of them all, Lord Voldemort.

Harry collapsed down on the bed, feeling horrible. When he lay down however, his back landed on something hard. He quickly got up again to see what it was. It was a potions textbook, but it didn't belong to Harry. He had never seen it before. He opened the book and a small piece if parchment fell out. The note was written in vaguely familiar handwriting and said:

"The information you are requiring for your tutor on invisibility drafts can be found in this book. Happy Birthday, Harry."

There was no signature.

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**Please R&R**


	6. The Mystery That Is Mark Evans

Authors Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews! I got quite a surprise to see so many. I have quite a few comments to make, but I'll leave it until the end so I don't spoil the chapter for you.

**Chapter 6: The Mystery That is Mark Evans**

The book Harry received from his secret helper was invaluable. Although he knew that handwriting on the note, he simply could not place it. He had been searching through his mind all night but the identity of the owner of the handwriting just eluded him. He did, however, find the information he needed for Snape's homework task in no time and had completed his assignment in a couple of hours. 

Snape's words to Harry had played on his mind all throughout the night in his dreams and continued to plague him during the morning. _You are easy prey. The idea that Snape set him up to teach him a lesson was not lost on Harry. But the idea that Harry could be so easily lured absolutely horrified him. Even after the horrendous events at the Ministry of Magic, he had not learnt his lesson._

Snape had been working intently on something ever since Harry had started his lessons and he had been so intrigued by what it could be, possibly something for the Order, that he had never stopped to think about what he was doing. He should never have gone into Snape's lab. One day his curiosity was going to get him killed.

After he had done his morning chores for the Dursleys, Harry felt he needed to go for a walk to clear his mind before today's potion lesson, before he had to face Snape again. He knew he had to apologise, but had to work himself up to it. Apologising to someone he hated as much as Snape was never an easy task.

The cool breeze through Harry's hair as he walked had the desired effect as he begun to relax. When Harry past Magnolia Crescent, he caught sight of Dudley and his gang on the corner. Not wanting to deal with Dudley at the moment, Harry had started to change course until he saw Mark Evans exit the convenience store. Mark shouted a cheery, "Hi, Duds!" to Dudley, and Dudley promptly took off in fright, while his sycophants trailed behind.

Having to know what was going on between his cousin and Mark Evans, Harry quickly sprinted across the park to catch up with Mark.

"Hi, Mark," Harry said, panting slightly from the sprint.

A small 11 year-old boy looked up.  He was wearing blue jeans with white t-shirt and sneakers, his hair was a dark red and he had brown eyes. "Oh, hi Harry," Mark answered, smiling.

"How's your summer going?" Harry asked. 

"Fine, yours?" Mark answered.

"Good. Is something going on between you and Dudley?" Harry asked. He really wanted to know. Mark wasn't going to co-operate, however, as he just shrugged.

Harry had an idea as to what it could be, as there was only one thing that Harry could think of that would make Dudley so terrified. Harry himself had personal experience of this nature. But seeing that the direct approach wasn't going to work, Harry tried subtlety. "You start secondary school this year, don't you?"

Mark nodded.

"Which school are you going to?" Harry asked, looking for any sign of hesitation or awkwardness at this question.

As it happened, Harry didn't need to look very far because Mark answered, "St Brutus'." Mark then winked, and took off down the street.

Harry giggled to himself. Mark's a wizard, and he knew Harry was a wizard too. Harry remembered before Hogwarts, how he used to perform magic without intending too. Harry wondered what Mark had unintentionally done to Dudley, and wished he had been there to see it. Because Mark had not yet started Hogwarts he could not be expelled for using magic, and Harry was sure Dudley knew it too. Harry did wonder why Mark wasn't prepared to talk about being a wizard to him, however. Unless Harry got the message wrong and Mark really was going to St Brutus'. Harry dismissed that idea. Mark was a good kid. He was definitely a wizard.

Feeling hungry, Harry decided to go to the small shopping centre on Walkers Way. He never had much of an opportunity to buy take-away in the muggle world as he's never had any muggle money before, and the muggle's would think him strange if he tried to hand over galleons (or stranger, as the Dursleys made sure that everyone in Surrey thought that Harry was odd, thereby making them think the Dursleys were saints for taking Harry in). Since Harry had the muggle money that he got Hermione to exchange for his 'board', he was going to enjoy himself for a change.

Harry enjoyed a peaceful meal of cottage pie and chips at a small casual restaurant. It wasn't as good as the meals the house elves served up at Hogwarts, but it was delicious none-the-less. Harry then decided to do some shopping, as this was another pastime that he was always deprived of. He wanted to get some muggle clothes that actually fit.

Some time later Harry was laden with shopping bags, which contained two sets of jeans, some t-shirts, an overcoat, a pair of new shoes, a watch and a new pair of glasses. Harry knew he shouldn't have gone so overboard with his purchases, but he was sick of wearing Dudley's enormous hand-me-downs. 

On the way back to Privet Drive, Harry tried to think of a way to get his new belongings inside without the Dursleys seeing. Harry knew that the Dursleys would not be impressed at seeing Harry with so many new things. They would also like to know where Harry got the money from, as they are taking most of Harry's 'earnings' in board.

Just as Harry approached Privet Drive, he froze in his tracks, horrified. Just to confirm, he checked the time on his new watch. It was ten past two. He was over an hour late for his potions lesson! He had been having such a good time shopping that he completely forgot. Harry dashed down Privet Drive, hid his bags in some bushes at the back of the house, and ran inside. His intention was to run to his room to get his potions work. However, he was stopped by his Aunt Petunia, who was giving Harry a dirty look.

"Where have you been? There's someone in the lounge room who has been waiting for you for the past half and hour!" Aunt Petunia scolded. Dudley was standing behind Aunt Petunia, gloating. Harry knew this wasn't going to be good.

Harry forced himself to walk into the lounge room. His worst suspicions were confirmed when he stood face to face with his dreaded potions master.

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**R&R**

Author's notes:

I just wanted to make some comments on some of the reviews I've received. Nothing bad, of course, I think you're all wonderful! But some of you have given some insightful reviews and I wanted to comment back.

**Xikum**: Hi, thankyou so much for your review. You brought up some very interesting and very valid points, and thus forced me to think about the Snape/Harry relationship much more deeply than I have already. In terms of the books I completely agree with you. I desperately want to see some kind of resolution between Snape and Harry, or at the very least show us some understanding as to exactly why Snape loathes Harry so completely. It can't be just because of James. I'm sure that JKR won't let us down.

If I can add my opinions to yours: I do not see Snape changing his views on Harry any time soon. There are certainly similarities between Harry's and Snape's upbringing. They were both abused, and on the surface one can see a reason for Snape's treatment of Harry to change for this reason. But I see Snape as a broken man, and the man knows how to hold a grudge. He is not kind, or understanding. Many people who are abused continue the cycle of abuse. They grow up harsh and cruel just like their tormentors and this is where I place Snape. Harry is another kettle of fish though, as he was strong enough to break free of the cycle. This I believe is greatly attributed to not only to his own strength but the power of such great friends that are Ron and Hermione, which was something I believe Snape never had. In fact, Snape's friends were all also harsh and cruel, and all became death eaters. So although Snape and Harry's upbringings were similar in some ways, their situations are vastly different. It was very much influenced by their personal strength and by the people around them. The bottom line, I don't think that Snape is going to suddenly be kind to Harry just because his relatives say a few harsh words to him. Snape grew up to be just like the people who abused him. It's going to take something much more to bring Snape out of his hatred.

Some of the other things you brought up:

-I don't see Harry as rebellious either. He is just much too curious for his own good!

-Is Snape being kind to Draco in the effort of keeping him away from the dark? I don't believe I've mentioned that specifically in my story, and nor will I, as I am not writing a story about abuse. My use of Draco is merely a plot device, not intended to be examined closely. (Re-reading your review I just realised I never truly saw the potential for the parallel between Snape and his father, Harry and the Dursley's and Malfoy and his father. What you've suggested here would make for compelling reading if one was good enough at writing it.) I do want to say, just because Snape says something to Harry, it doesn't make it fact. That was included to make a completely different point, which will be revealed later on. Remember, Snape is the head of Slytherin, manipulative and in my opinion not always trustworthy. He wouldn't cross Dumbledore, but Harry's fair game.

-I don't see what I am doing as art. What I am doing is attempting to develop my writing style, which, with the help of the wonderful people who are my reviewers, may one day in the distant future enable me to write something that loosely resembles art.

**Katie**: Oops. You're absolutely right. I have a purpose for the lab scene happening but I needed to develop this much more in the chapters leading up to this event. I don't think anything could really dampen Harry's curiosity, he is just curious by nature.  Harry's been very curious to know exactly what Snape's been doing as he feels that since he is the one that has to face Voldemort, he should know what is going on. When Snape had left the house and left the door to the lab wide open, it was too much of a temptation. Of course, a well-written story wouldn't need this sort of explanation. In my defence, besides the short one-off I did a long time ago, this is my first foray into fiction of any kind and I still have a lot to learn! 

**R. LeMythe**: Thankyou. Your advice has been noted and appreciated. You're right about my use of the word 'drag'. I didn't see it before. I'm Australian and we pick up a lot of both American and British-ism's. I was also worried about the letter from Dumbledore when I wrote it. As for my tenses, I tried to work on the tenses in this chapter. I'm not sure if I succeeded but I'm trying! 

As for Snape not yelling at Dumbledore, I'm not sure if I agree, but I don't actively disagree either. Snape does respect Dumbledore, but that doesn't stop Snape from being Snape. Harry also respects Dumbledore but it didn't stop Harry from shouting at him and smashing his possessions. And you have to admit, what Dumbledore was asking Snape to do, giving up his summer to give special treatment to his most hated student, was very unreasonable. I wouldn't blame Snape for throwing a fit. And we've seen Snape blow his top before. But at the same time Snape may try to control his temper.

A couple of other points:

As for who sent the book, I'm not saying, but I will say that no-one's guessed it yet. It is related to the incident earlier on when Harry was trying to get Uncle Vernon to agree to let Harry take this 'job'. Remember the shadow in the hallway?

A couple of people mentioned developing a better relationship between Snape and Harry. Hmmm, maybe in the sequel? Now, Snape and Harry aren't going to fight all the time, honestly, who wants to read 13 chapters of Snape and Harry doing nothing but arguing? But they are not going to get all chummy either. 

This story will only be for the duration of the summer holidays. I intend on leaving some things open which will be resolved in a sequel which will be much longer and last for the duration of the school year if people are interested. I'll ask the question again when this story is finished.

Okay, the Author's Note was as long as the chapter. I promise I won't write an Author's Note this long again :)


	7. Snape Meets the Dursleys

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the long delay in updates. Christmas time… very busy and all that. Here are two chapters to compensate.

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**Chapter 7: Snape Meets the Dursleys**

Harry looked to Snape, then Uncle Vernon, then Aunt Petunia and Dudley who both no doubt followed along behind Harry to gloat. Harry's face paled and he began to feel sicker than he had ever felt in his life. All of the people he hated most in the world in the same room and all glaring at him.

To his immense surprise, Snape was wearing muggle clothes. Harry knew it was stupid to be surprised about this. Snape was in the muggle world now, of course he would be in muggle clothes. It was just that seeing Snape in trousers, shirt and jacket, with his hair tied back, made Snape look very different, almost human.

After one final swift angry look at Harry, Uncle Vernon turned towards Snape with an apologetic expression. "Yes, I'm so very sorry about my nephew's behaviour, Mr Snape. Not turning up for work! It's unforgivable. Of course he's very disturbed you know. He has to go to St Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. We all believe he truly is a hopeless case." Uncle Vernon clearly thought Snape was perfectly _normal_, which was also a surprise to Harry, because just as the Dursleys were the biggest bunch of Muggle's imaginable, Snape was pure wizard.

Snape gave Harry a brief questioning raised eyebrow, but smirking, he played along. "I understand, Mr Dursley. I also know a boy like him at the school where I teach. He is an arrogant, foolhardy child. Never pays attention to the rules. Unfortunately, it is still another two years before he graduates, when I can finally be rid of him." Snape looked directly at Harry as he spoke, his lips curling. Clearly he was enjoying this. 

"I know exactly what you mean, Mr Snape. It's still another two years before we can be rid of _this_." Uncle Vernon said, pointing at Harry, "and please, call me Vernon. This is my wife Petunia and son Dudley. Dudley's going to be a world champion boxer, you know." He added proudly.

"That is most kind of you, Vernon. Call me Severus."

Harry hated this. All the people he hated most in the world under one roof, talking about Harry as if he was no better than a pile of bird droppings. And to make matters worse, they were getting along like a house on fire. All he needed was for Malfoy and Umbridge to show up and join in the pleasantries and his night would be complete.

"We were just sitting down to afternoon tea, Severus. Would you care to join us?" Uncle Vernon asked, and Aunt Petunia immediately stepped forward, ready to serve up another cup if called upon.

"No, no, I must be getting on. There is much to do. I just stopped by to see your nephew, if that's alright?" Snape asked.

"Quite alright. Harry?" Uncle Vernon indicated to Harry to show Snape into the lounge room so they could talk. As Harry passed Uncle Vernon however, his Uncle said loudly enough for Snape to hear, "watch yourself, boy. I'm not going to get you out of another mess, you ungrateful brat."

Harry reluctantly led a very amused Snape out into the lounge room. Once there, Snape said to Harry, very quietly so he wouldn't be overheard, "Is there someplace else we can talk? Where we will not be heard by the _muggle's_?" He emphasised the word muggle's.

Harry looked at Snape suspiciously, but said, "My room." Snape indicated to Harry to lead on. On the way, Harry was very conscientious of the fact that he was leading his most hated teacher into his bedroom.

Harry's bedroom was nothing like the rest of the house. Elsewhere, everything was sparkling and spotless. Harry's bedroom was anything but. Dirty clothes and books lay haphazardly on the floor, bed not made, and crumbs on the floor from the cakes he managed to smuggle in. One cannot live on wilted lettuce alone.

Harry turned to Snape who was clearly examining the scene before him with distaste. 'You can't talk,' Harry thought, 'you keep disgusting things in jars all over the place.'

"Yes, but those disgusting things in jars, as you put it, does not contaminate the surrounding's as this," he lifted up a dirty, smelly pair of sneakers, "undoubtedly would."

Harry looked up startled.

"You should have taken more notice of Occlumency, Mr Potter." Snape sneered. Harry glared back.

"How come you were playing nice with my Uncle? I thought you hated muggle's." Harry snapped.

Snape stared intently at Harry before answering. "Firstly, you will refer to me as either Professor, or sir. Secondly, you know nothing about me. Control yourself, Potter," Snape warned, "or I may have to tell your Uncle that you were being most disrespectful." Snape had a glint in his eye. Harry knew that Snape would love to see another show of Uncle Vernon berating him.

Snape circled Harry, trying to intimidate him. "Besides, I do enjoy a spot of Potter bashing, regardless of company," he smirked.

Harry had no retort for this, so he remained silent, waiting for Snape to continue.

Eventually, Snape asked, "What was this story about you working for me, Potter?"

'Oohh, Snape's going to love this," Harry thought, but decided to answer truthfully. It was the least he could do after Snape covered for him.

"They hate magic," Harry said, indicating his relatives. "They would never let me learn more magic over the summer holidays. The job was my cover story."

"I see." Snape's face was frozen.

Not knowing why, Harry continued, "They live in mortal fear that people are going find out about my '_abnormality'_. They used to lock up my trunk and broomstick in my old bedroom under the stairs until they were scared away by the knowledge that Sirius is – _was – my godfather." _

"Bedroom under the stairs?" Snape queried.

"Broom closet."

"And you slept there?"

"Yeah." Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe he just told Snape this. He just handed Snape a whole arsenal to use against him. 

Expecting a sharp retort full of snide comments and sarcasm, Harry was surprised when he heard Snape quietly say in a voice devoid of malice, "It could be worse… It could always be worse."

Harry could tell Snape was thinking of his own childhood. Harry had caught a glimpse of Snape's childhood memories accidentally last year, and although they were quite horrible, Harry knew that they were only the tip of the iceberg.

Feeling uncomfortable about the brief moment of understanding that went between them, Harry looked down to the ground and started shuffling his feet. 

Just then, Harry had a thought which seemed almost impossible but he had to know none-the-less. Harry picked up the potions book and the note which was sent by the mysterious helper.

"Did you send me this, sir?

Coming out of his reverie, Snape glanced at the book and answered. "And why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know, sir. Someone left it here with this note. I don't know who." Harry handed the note over to Snape. He knew immediately he made a mistake in questioning Snape about this, but it was too late now.

After reading the note, a look of recognition came over Snape's face. He screwed up the note. 

"I assure you, Mr Potter, that it was not I who sent you this." Snape took the book from Harry and put it and the note inside his jacket. The moment of understanding passed as quickly as it came.

"In the unlikely event you were to succeed in obtaining the appropriate grade, I would be forced to accept you into Advanced Potions. I am hardly going to make it easier for you."

"Who was it from, then? I could tell you recognised the handwriting." Harry blurted.

"Someone who should very well know to stay out of it!" Snape snapped.

Harry nodded, not wanting to aggravate Snape further. It was clear he wasn't going to get any answers from him.

"Can I have the book back now, sir?" Harry asked. The book was very useful, as it had plenty of information which his textbooks did not.

"No. This book is not a subscribed text." Snape said simply.

Giving up, Harry started to wonder what Snape was doing there in the first place.

"You didn't show up for 'work', of course." Snape again answered Harry's thoughts.

"Stop doing that!" Harry snapped, and then quickly added, "Sir."

Snape smirked again.

"I was only an hour late. I lost track of time." Harry stated truthfully, already knowing how stupid it sounded.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were just too cowardly to turn up after our little _incident _yesterday."

Harry flushed briefly before regaining control over his emotions. 'It's now or never,' he thought, and braced himself. "I'm sorry I went into your private laboratory, sir. You were right. Once of these days my curiosity is going to get me killed." There, he'd finally done it. Then he thought, 'in for a Knut, in for a Galleon'. "I'm also very sorry for looking into your pensieve. That was inexcusable."

For a while it seemed like Snape was about to make a sharp retort, but said instead, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr Potter."

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**R&R**


	8. Lack Of Open Hostilities

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

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**Chapter 8: Lack of Open Hostilities**

Over the next two weeks, a tentative piece broke out between Harry and Snape. Of course, peace is never truly possible between these two, but at least no blood letting occurred. If fact, a few semi-civil conversations were to be had.

The first one happened a week ago. Harry couldn't let go what Snape said about Malfoy, and he had to know more.

Harry was brewing a particularly complicated sleeping draught, while Snape was, as always, sitting at his desk working on his notes. Harry was still curious as to what he was doing, but after last time, he knew better than to pursue it.

"Is what you said about Malfoy true sir?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to break the peace.

"What?" Snape answered, not looking up from his work.

"You know, him being abused by his father?"

Snape smirked, one could almost say chuckled, actually, if one were to observe closely enough. 

"No"

"But…"

"As I recall, you said, or rather thought, Mr Malfoy deserved the treatment that I was subjected to by your father. I merely responded with a hypothetical scenario."

Harry looked at Snape open-mouthed.

Snape finally looked up from his work. "The point is, Mr Potter, that you truly don't know any of my Slytherins, so what right do you have to judge them? Or state what they deserve? Nobody deserves to be humiliated like that."

Harry was incredulous. "You humiliate people all the time!"

Snape sneered, "And tell me when, exactly, was the time I suspended one of my students up side down in mid air and removed their undergarments?"

"Maybe not that, but what about Hermione? When Malfoy enlarged her teeth? You humiliated her then!"

A dreamy look crept onto Snape's face. It was disconcerting. "Ah, yes, the beaver."

Harry was just about to burst in anger.

"Settle down, Potter, I never said she deserved it. But if I may make my point again for your simple ears, what makes you believe that you are so above the rest of us mere mortals that you can judge us? That you can state what we deserve."

"But Malfoy …" Harry started

"But Malfoy what? What has Mr Malfoy done that is so truly despicable that he deserves to be publicly humiliated? And if Mr Malfoy, or anyone for that matter, had done such despicable acts, you have no way of knowing the circumstances, or what the individual has been through. The world is not black and white, Mr Potter, it is grey. Some things are not so easy to judge."

Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Snape might have been channelling his own past misdeeds in his statement. Despite Harry's tendency to be over-curious, even he knew that whatever it was was none of his business. Harry stared at Snape. He was angry that Snape lied to him, but in a sense understood why he did. Regardless of Snape's treatment of him and his friends, Harry truly did not have the right to say, or think, that Malfoy deserved such treatment. 

"Besides, Mr Potter, did you honestly think I would reveal such personal information concerning one of my students to _you of all people?"_

Harry hated it when Snape was right, and it happened more often than Harry was comfortable with.

Later on in the week, Harry, his curiosity once again getting the best of him, had to know why Snape was tutoring him over summer.

"Why are you doing this sir?" Harry had asked.

"Why am I doing what?" Snape snapped back.

"Teaching me. I don't understand why you would want to spend your summer with me, of all people, considering how much you hate me."

"What I do is none of your concern Potter, get back to work."

"I'm doing this because – " Harry started, wanting for some reason to engage in conversation.

"I'm well aware of your foolish ambitions of being an Auror, Potter," Snape cut in.

Losing control of his anger, Harry blurted, "You just can't handle a civil conversation, can you sir? Are you scared someone might end up liking you or something?"

Snape sneered. "I am quite capable of a civil conversation, Potter. I just have no desire to have one with you."

Harry flushed, and concentrated on his potion. He knew he added too many porcupine quills, but he didn't care. Eventually, Snape offered, "The headmaster promised me the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Harry was stunned. "Hang on, if you're teaching Defense Against the Dark arts, who will be teaching Potions?"

"I am."

"But..."

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts post was arranged some time ago. A personal friend of mine will teach for one year. I will assist her and take over the following year. She needs teaching experience apparently." Snape sounded quite bitter as he said this, and Harry wondered if he inadvertently stepped into something he shouldn't have … again.

This minor revelation didn't stop Harry from looking at Snape in abject horror. Two classes with Snape? He didn't think he could stand it.

It was now just six days until the end of summer holidays, four days until he had to take his test. Harry was anticipating the end of the more than normal torturous summer, but he had one other horrendous task to fulfil first.

"Sir?" Harry asked, colour fading from his face at the thought of what he had to do.

"Yes"

"I – I have to ask you something."

"Out with it, Potter, I don't have all day."

"Well, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have invited you to dinner tomorrow night."

Snape's face went as pale as Harry's.

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**R&R**


	9. Dinner At The Dursleys

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Author's Note: Thankyou all for the reviews. I love all the encouragement and the constructive criticism I am getting and believe me when I say that I am taking note of all your good advice. I honestly believe I will become a better writer because of it which is what I am aiming for.

A couple of comments (not as long as last time!): About my disclaimer, this fic was influenced by all the Snape Meets the Dursleys stories I've read, but either the Dursleys become horrific or Snape suddenly turns nice to Harry which is fine, this is fanfic and anything goes, but I've never seen a story where Snape is ever civil to the Dursleys. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe Snape would even have the remotest of fond feelings for the Dursleys, but he may play along if it suited him. Anyway, I have plenty of ideas, but they are all influenced by other fanfics, just with a different twist. 

As for the cliff-hanger's, yeah I like them. It encourages people to read the next chapter!

By the way, the sender of the book won't be revealed until the last chapter (Chapter 13), but there is a clue in Chapter 11.

Oh, and Mark Evans and the new DADA professor will be mentioned again in this story but extensively explored in the sequel, if people want one. (Of course the focus will be on Harry)

I appreciate the comments that so many feel that the characters are In Character. I'm certainly trying. I personally believe that Dumbledore was very OOC to begin with as he would never ask Snape to do this but it was the premise for the entire story so it had to happen. I fear that Harry may be OOC in this chapter but oh well. I'll bring him back next chapter.

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**Chapter 9: Dinner at the Dursleys**

Harry sat nervously on the lounge room couch, waiting for Snape to arrive. His Uncle Vernon had forced him to buy a three-piece suit for the occasion, using Harry's 'earnings', so wanting were they to impress Harry's 'boss'. The Dursleys haven't been so frantic at pleasing a house guest since the Mason's. In the past Harry might have been pleased to have been included in such a gathering as he had always been ignored, but since the house guest was Snape, Harry longed for the days where he had to sit in his room pretending he didn't exist. 

Being a Saturday Harry didn't have to go to 'work' today, so his Aunt Petunia had given Harry a long list of chores to do to prepare for the evening. He had to mow the lawn, prune the bushes, wash the windows, vacuum the house, scrub the bathroom, most of which Harry had to do twice as Aunt Petunia was not satisfied with the quality of the first effort. Harry was exhausted. 

Aunt Petunia rushed in to the lounge room with a comb and bottle of gel. Harry wondered when they would learn that nothing could be done to tame his hair.

"Harry, come here and sit!" Aunt Petunia ordered, pointing to a chair in the kitchen. "Lord knows we have to do something about your uncontrollable mop."

Sighing, Harry got up walked over to the kitchen, and sat down with resignation. Harry felt he might as well get this over and done with.

After about 15 minutes, the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia put away the comb and scissors, once again resigned to the fact that nothing could be done to tame Harry's unruly hair.

Harry heard Dudley saunter to the front door to answer it. "Good evening Mr Snape," Dudley said, grovelling for all he was worth. "How are you this evening?"

After a brief pause, Harry heard Snape answer, "Very well, Dudley, yourself?"

Harry rolled his eyes. With all Snape's posturing, he wondered what Snape _really_ thought of Dudley.

Dudley led Snape into the lounge room, where Aunt Petunia was offering refreshments. 

Harry was still watching the proceedings from the kitchen. He was dreading going into the lounge room, as he knew that it was going to be one long night of insults and criticisms. Resolutely, Harry grabbed a tray of appetisers, and walked into the lounge room.

When Harry entered he thought that Snape was almost glad to see him as Uncle Vernon was in the middle of boring Snape with his favourite Japanese Golfer joke, and Snape's normally sharp eyes were glazing over. 

Snape looked up and sneered at Harry. "So nice of you to join us, _Mr Potter_." All three of the Dursleys looked at Harry with glee at the sound of Snape's voice dripping with sarcasm.

'Dear sweet Merlin,' Harry thought. 'This is going to be hell.'

Attempting a pleasant smile, which in fact looked more like a grimace, Harry presented the tray to Snape. "Appetiser, P… Mr Snape?" Harry almost called Snape, Professor. He knew he had to be more careful, for if Snape's true identity was revealed it would be disastrous for Harry.

Sneering, Snape grabbed the appetiser and said, "You should probably put that tray down, Mr Potter, before your clumsiness causes you to do more damage like when you used acid instead of polish on my silverware and made it turn green."

Dudley chuckled at the insult. Harry blushed. Although Harry was grateful that Snape was covering for him, it was still humiliating. Did he have to take it so far? 

Harry sat down on a sofa chair as far away as he could reasonably get, and prepared himself for the hammering. It didn't take long to start.

"I do hope your back is feeling better." Uncle Vernon asked Snape. "It's such a horrible thing to happen, pulling your back muscles doing callisthenics."

Snape turned to Harry with distaste. Harry's heart started to beat fast. He hadn't told Snape about this particular aspect of the cover story, and he could tell Snape wasn't amused.

"Yes, well, it's on the mend now, I assure you." Snape replied shortly.

Harry could see that Uncle Vernon, sensing danger, was trying to find a safer subject to discuss. He evidently decided that the safest topic was 'Potter bashing', as he asked, "What is it you're getting Harry to do? I do hope your not being too soft on him."

It was clearly the best topic as Snape (in a Snapeish way) smiled. Harry inaudibly groaned and closed his eyes. He could imagine the types of stories that Snape's mind could come up with. "Just yesterday I had Mr Potter decontaminate the fish pond. It hadn't been cleaned for some time, you see, and isn't habitable to fish. It was extremely slimy. Potter had to get into the murky water to clean the bottom. He was head to toe in green sludge."

"Wonderful, wonderful. Lord knows something has got to get _him in line. St Brutus' is doing everything they can, of course, but there is simply no hope for some."_

"Quite true."

So the Dursleys and Snape entered a long and meaningful conversation of all the disgusting and demeaning tasks Harry had to do while working for Snape.

Just as Snape was telling them about how Harry's next task was to clean the septic tank, an owl swooped in from the fireplace (the kitchen window was closed for fear of this event), and dropped a letter in front of Harry. Harry quickly shoved the letter into his pocket.

It was amazing how this simple act affected the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia screamed and clamped her hand to her mouth. Dudley jumped up and coward behind the couch and Uncle Vernon was red with rage. Of course, although they didn't like it, the Dursleys were accustomed to owl post, but having one enter their living room when they were entertaining what they thought was a perfectly normal guest was an absolute atrocity.

Uncle Vernon was beside himself, and he tried to explain why an owl was delivering mail to Harry.

"I am so sorry, Severus. Strange birds, you never know what they're going to do. It's probably been trained by some crackpot."

Snape just sat there, smirking, unaffected by the entire event. However, although he covered it well, Harry could see that Snape was not impressed by a wizard being labelled a 'crackpot'.

Suspicious at Snape's lack of reaction, Uncle Vernon nervously said, "How about dinner then? Petunia?"

"Yes, all ready." Aunt Petunia replied.

"Good. Let's all retire the dining room shall we?" And they all rose from their respective positions (Dudley still cowering behind the couch) and followed Aunt Petunia to the dining room.

The game of tormenting Harry slowed throughout dinner, and Harry was grateful for the break. 

"This meal is superb, Petunia," Snape commented. Harry realised that Snape really was capable of civility, at least when there was something in it for him. A brief look from Snape told Harry he needed to control his thoughts. Harry hated legilimency.

"Why, thankyou Severus. That is most kind of you," Aunt Petunia answered.

"You mentioned that you are a teacher, Severus. Where it is that you teach?" Uncle Vernon asked.

Harry was wondering how Snape was going to answer this but as it happened it wasn't necessary, as all hell broke loose.

Just as Snape opened his mouth to answer, another owl entered the Dursleys dining room, this time delivering a letter to Snape.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stared open mouthed at Snape. Snape calmly took the letter and put it in one of his pockets of his jacket. He wasn't going to read it there.

"But … what …" Uncle Vernon stammered, disbelieving, and then stood up and shouted, "YOUR ONE OF THEM …. A FREAK! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!"

Snape, completely in control, rose from his chair and looked Uncle Vernon in the eye. Harry knew he should be panicking by now, the game was up. Uncle Vernon was going to find out exactly what has been going on all summer. Harry also knew that, by the evil look in Snape's eyes, that he should really be concerned for Uncle Vernon's safety, but he just couldn't at this point in time summon up the required compassion. He was too intrigued about the imminent showdown between Uncle Vernon and Snape.

Snape may have been in control, but Uncle Vernon was as in control as a Blast-Ended Skrewt. His teeth were bared, his face purple from anger, and the vein in Uncle Vernon's temple was throbbing madly.

"HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE? YOU FREAK! GET OUT I SAID! GET OUT!!!" Uncle Vernon's throat was becoming hoarse from shouting so loudly and he was panting and shaking from the exertion. Harry would be amazed if the neighbours hadn't heard every word.

Snape glared at Uncle Vernon, and slowly paced towards him. Snape was clearly not impressed about being called a freak.

Harry was surprised that Uncle Vernon wasn't cowering in fear at Snape's gaze, as if it had been Harry on the end of Snape's glare, he would have started running by now. Uncle Vernon, however, was too beside himself with anger to care.

Snape spoke very quietly and slowly, but every syllable was pronounced, and his very aura displayed a dark power. "I will gladly leave your detestable premises, Mr Dursley, but if you ever call me a freak again, I will personally see to it that you will not reach your next birthday."

Snape whipped out his wand and pointed it at Dudley. "This hideous son of yours is nothing but a cowardly, grossly obese swine. You should be ashamed of him."

Dudley was frozen solid, clearly terrified. He was watching the sparks fly out of Snape's wand with utmost fear. Aunt Petunia screamed and started to run to Dudley's aid until Snape pointed his wand at her. "Do you truly believe that you could defend your son against me?" More sparks flew out of Snape's wand, and this time the room went very cold, as if a dementor was close by.

In an uncharacteristic display of bravery, Uncle Vernon stood forward to protect his wife and son. Before he could speak, Snape turned on him. "Your sycophantic display is appalling, Mr Dursley. And as much as I enjoy the Potter bashing, I must say that you would have to be the most miserable, self-centred group muggle's I have ever laid eyes on!" The lights began to dim and a slight breeze swept the room, wafting through Snape's hair. Harry was afraid Snape might be angry enough to blow up the house, and he was certain that Snape had the power to do it.

Uncle Vernon visibly cringed. Uncle Vernon had met other grown wizards, of course. Mr Weasley was one, and he recently met Moody and Lupin and the train station, but he had never met anyone like Snape before, and he was clearly petrified.

Harry himself was in shock. He had thought he had seen Snape's dark side, but he now realised that he knew nothing of Snape, and what he was capable of. Despite himself, Harry found himself in awe of his potions master. Snape may work for the side of light, but he was still very much a very dark and powerful wizard. This feeling of awe passed very quickly, however, when Snape turned to Harry.

"I will see you Monday, Potter, for your next lesson." And Snape swept out of the room.

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**R&R**

Author's Note: I realised on read-though that Harry never actually speaks in this chapter. Interesting. I guess he just wanted to stay in the background and not aggravate anyone with his presence. :)


	10. Revelations

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Author's Note: I can't believe the amount of reviews I'm getting. 91 last time I checked. Although I know it's not about the number of reviews but the quality of the writing, it's still a buzz to see so many. I was hoping for maybe 40 for the whole story but it looks like I'll get over 100. Thanks guys. 

The reason I thought Harry was a little out of character last chapter because as xSnapeLoverx mentioned I thought Harry was a little cowardly. He doesn't put up with these insults anymore, not since POA I believe, when he blew up his Aunt. But he did have a reason for putting up with it in this story though, I guess.

A couple of people mentioned Snape's cloak in their review. I literally laughed out loud when I read this. I cannot believe I missed that! Snape was in muggle clothes, he had to be. The Dursleys would certainly notice something as abnormal as that. Anyway I fixed up the error. There's no need to reread, I've just erased 'cloak billowing' from the end of the last sentence, so Snape's non-existent cloak no longer billows as he walks out of the Dursley's home.

About the letters, sorry, it's just a plot device so that the Dursleys would find out who Snape is. I might reveal the contents in Harry's letter, but they aren't hugely important to the story.

Hendiadys very correctly called me on my use of Occlumency/Legilimency. I'm trying to stay cannon as much as possible in all details of the story, except this one. Legilimency in the books has been described as being extremely complicated. The way I'm portraying it is basically simple mind-reading and I know that's not the way it's supposed to be. Legilimency isn't meant to be a big part of this story; its only purpose being to impose upon Harry the importance of learning Occlumency. I only use it once more in Chapter 11 and that's just for some humour.

Katie: I'm sorry if I implied that physical abuse is worse than emotional abuse or neglect. I really don't believe this for a second. When I had Snape say, 'It could always be worse,' Snape was channelling his own experiences. As he was growing up he was always excusing his parents, ie, 'it's not that bad; they really do love me; it could always be worse'. I didn't mean to compare Snape's and Harry's abuse directly. But rather, the abuse (whether physical or emotional), could always be worse. Is this the right thing for Snape to say or feel? Certainly not. But I don't consider Snape to be wise. Powerful and intelligent, yes, but definitely not wise. Snape still has a lot of growing up to do. As for Snape joining in on the 'belittle Harry' game, well he does this at Hogwarts, so I don't think Snape has any concerns about emotionally abusing Harry.

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**Chapter 10: Revelations**

It took a good five minutes before Uncle Vernon had calmed down enough to speak. Purple faced, Uncle Vernon turned to Harry. "Explain yourself!" He spoke very quietly, vein throbbing in his temple.

Harry's previous intrigue about the clash between Snape and Uncle Vernon turned to dread. He knew Uncle Vernon would not let Harry continue with his lessons. The entire summer had been a waste. Harry couldn't see any way out of this.

Not waiting for an answer, Uncle Vernon continued. "Who was that man? How does he know you, and what was this talk about lessons!"

"Well, Uncle Vernon, you see, he was …" Harry mumbled, trying to think quickly on his feet but failing miserably. 

"Well!" Uncle Vernon's patience was wearing thin.

Throwing caution to the wind, and not being able to come up with a convincing cover story, Harry told him. "That was Professor Snape. He's my potions teacher at Hogwarts, and he's been tutoring me in potions over summer so I can improve my grade."

The Dursley's cringed every time Harry said something relating to that _other_ world. 

Uncle Vernon took a few moments to digest this information.

"School teacher?"

"Yes."

"At … that place?"

"Hogwarts. Yes."

"And he's been tutoring you?"

"Yes."

Uncle Vernon's eyes flashed briefly with delight. "I can't say I'm surprised to hear you're failing …"

"I'm not failing!" Harry shouted.

Uncle Vernon sneered "Then why do you need tutoring, boy!"

Again, Harry decided to go with honesty. "So I can be an Auror. They need top grades."

"What in God's name is an Auror?" Uncle Vernon blurted, but then thought better of it. "No, don't tell me, I don't want to know."

Harry stared at Uncle Vernon and decided right then, that he was not going to let anybody ruin his chances of becoming an Auror. Not Snape and especially not Uncle Vernon.

But Uncle Vernon had other ideas. "I forbid you to continue. You know I don't want that, that, _abnormality_ being flaunted around my house!"

"You can't do that! I won't allow it. I need to finish. There are only a couple more days. I promise we'll keep it quiet." Although Harry knew pleading would do no good, he had to try. The alternative, being forced to quit his dream of being an Auror, was just too horrendous to contemplate.

"Absolutely not!" Uncle Vernon snarled.

Uncle Vernon and Harry were joined in an eye lock. Neither was willing to back down. After a while, Uncle Vernon seemed to think of something.

"If you haven't been working, where have you been getting the money to pay for the board and those clothes?" Uncle Vernon questioned Harry suspiciously.

Harry gaped. The last thing he wanted was for Uncle Vernon to find out about all the galleons he has in Gringotts.

"Well?" Uncle Vernon added impatiently.

Harry said the first lie that came to him. "My friend Hermione lent it to me. I have to pay her back later."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't buying it. "Don't lie to me boy! Where did you get that money! Did you steal it? I always knew you'd end up a criminal! I have a good mind to take you to the police right now!"

"I didn't steal anything!" Harry shouted truthfully, but to no avail.

Uncle Vernon bared his teeth. "You will tell me the truth boy! Or you will never come back to this house again!"

Harry's anger broke. After fifteen years of torment, he had had enough.

"You think I'm a criminal? Dudley's the criminal! Out every night vandalising public property and picking fights with 11 year-olds. Have you told them about Mark Evans yet, Dudley?" Dudley paled at the thought of Mark Evans, but didn't say a word.

"Don't you dare accuse Dudley -" Uncle Vernon started as Aunt Petunia put a protective arm around Dudley, but Harry wasn't going to be deterred from finally, after fifteen years, having his say.

"It's none of your business where the money came from!"

"While you are living under my roof, boy-" Uncle Vernon started to threaten, but again Harry, in a rage, continued on over the top of his uncle.

"Fine, I'll go! I've always wanted to go! You've always treated me like I'm lower than dirt, pampering your pig of a son while I get nothing. Well guess what? I am better than all of you!" Harry shouted, boiling with rage, fifteen years of anger and resentment flowing out of him. 

"I'm a wizard, Uncle Vernon, and I'm sick of hiding it, or feeling like a freak because of it! I'm not strange, or abnormal. I am not a freak. I'm a bloody wizard! And in one year I won't have the underage magic restrictions holding me back, so you'd better watch it!"

And Harry ran out of the dining room, up the stairs, into his room and immediately started packing his trunk. Uncle Vernon followed him, however, and he grabbed Harry by the arm.

"You ungrateful swine – "

"Let go of me!"

Harry tried to get out of Uncle Vernon's grasp but couldn't. He was holding on too strong. Harry saw his wand on the dresser, out of reach. He gave Uncle Vernon one swift kick in the shins. Uncle Vernon howled in pain and but did not let go. In fact, Uncle Vernon's grip became even stronger. Harry, this time, shouted out in pain. He knew he was going to have one hell of a bruise later on, but right now he was more worried of Uncle Vernon breaking his arm.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN US!!!" Harry kicked and punched with his free arm, but it did no good. Uncle Vernon was in too much of a rage to notice, and with his large bulk he was just too strong for a wandless Harry.

Just when Harry thought that his arm was about to break, Uncle Vernon suddenly flew across the room, and his back landed against the bookshelves, smashing them. A few dozen of Dudley's never-been-opened books landed on top of Uncle Vernon's head.

Dazed, but still very much conscious, Uncle Vernon stared at Harry in shock.

Harry dived for his wand, and then turned back to Uncle Vernon, pointing his wand at him.

"Get out!"

Still whimpering from pain, Uncle Vernon said, "You won't use that. You'll get expelled from that school of yours."

"I've used magic before and gotten away with it, and I'll get away with it this time, if you force me to use it. Now get out of here!" Harry shouted. 

Uncle Vernon, seeing that Harry was serious, bolted from the room as fast as he could (which considering his many injuries from being slammed against the bookcase, was not very fast at all), but not before having the last word. "I'm going, but don't you even think about coming back here!"

As Uncle Vernon slammed Harry's door behind him, Harry continued to pack his trunk in a daze. All the times Harry used wandless magic in the past, he could feel the magic inside him. This was not the case this time. Whatever just happened to Uncle Vernon, it was not because of him. Someone was in the room. Harry diligently swept the room for any sign that someone had been there, but unless this person could transfigure themselves into a look-alike of one of Dudley's old broken possessions, he was very much gone. There was no sign of life in the room.

This had been a very strange summer. Firstly, Uncle Vernon agreed without any trouble to let Harry do the job. Then a book appears on his bed from a mystery helper.  And now, someone or something just saved him from Uncle Vernon. All throughout summer, there has been someone here, watching him. Harry could not stop wondering who this person could be. Could it be Dumbledore? Was Dumbledore here, in Surrey, helping Harry over this summer? Harry thought it more likely that it was one of the members of the Order, tailing Harry like they did last year. But who?

When Harry finished packing his trunk, his thoughts directed to his current predicament. He had to leave the Dursleys, but where would he go? He needed to find a place where he could continue his lessons and take his test which was in a couple of days. There was only one place he could go, and he didn't like it one bit.

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**R&R**


	11. Number 11 Privet Drive

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

Author's Note: Again, I'm very sorry about the long delay between updates. I've been trying to decide where to take this story, whether I'll end it at Chapter 13 like originally intended, or continue on with a sequel. I've decided to go with the sequel as I feel there are many things that can still be explored. The sequel won't be posted for a couple of months. The sequel will be much longer, similar rating, and it will be beta'd. If you are not interested in a sequel, just ignore the parts about Mark Evans, as that is setting up things for the sequel.

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**Chapter 11: Number ****11 Privet Drive******

Harry stood in front of the door at Number 11 Privet Drive. He had been standing there for five minutes, dreading the look that was sure to be on Snape's face when he opened the door to find Harry there, complete with trunk, cauldron and owl.

Using every ounce of Gryffindor courage he possessed, Harry knocked on the door. Heart pounding, he only had to wait moments when the door opened, and he saw the form of Severus Snape glaring back at him.

Snape took one look at Harry, the trunk and the birdcage, worked out immediately what was going on, scowled "No!" and started to close the door.

Harry, expecting this kind of reaction, put his foot in to block the door. "Please, sir. Let me explain."

Snape glared at him. "Explain what, Mr Potter. Clearly, you had an argument with those hideous muggle relatives of yours, and you want to reside here. Although why you would want to be in the same house as the dreaded potions master is beyond me."

"I need to finish the lessons so I can take the test, sir. I have nowhere else to go around here. Uncle Vernon made sure everyone hates me."

"I assure you, Mr Potter, I am also one of those people." Although many people would be hurt at such a brass statement, Harry wasn't the least bit offended as he had heard it all before. "See, Mrs Figg, and don't bother me about this again!"

Snape was about to slam the door again when Harry stopped him. "I can't. Mrs Figg had to go and visit her sister who's sick. Please, there is nowhere else."

Snape leaned forward so that his face was only inches away from Harry's. "I will say this very clearly, so I am not misunderstood. No." Snape shoved Harry out of the doorway and closed the door. 

This was it. It was all over. He knew he could always get the Knight Bus to the Burrow. The Weasleys would be happy to have them, as they have already asked him three times to stay this summer. But if he did that, he wouldn't be able to complete his lessons because he can't apparate yet, and Snape's not on the flue network. 

Feeling it was better to have a roof over his head than to sit on the path with trunk cauldron and owl, watching the residence of Privet Drive stare at him like he was barmy, Harry resolutely took his wand out and began the motions to signal the Knight Bus. But just as he was about to extend his wand arm out, the door behind him opened.

"Get in and be quick about it." Snape snapped.

Harry stood open-mouthed staring at Snape. Did he just hear correctly, Snape's letting him stay? It wasn't until Harry saw how furious Snape was getting at Harry's idleness, that he grabbed his belongings and rushed inside.

Snape guided Harry to another part of the house which Harry had never seen before. In the past, Harry had only been permitted to enter the lab at the end of the hallway, but this time, Snape took a different turn, and they ended up in what Harry assumed was a living room, but it was not very welcoming. Like the rest of house that Harry had seen, the living room looked like it would have been better placed in a cold, dank dungeon. There were no windows to let the light stream in as the outside would suggest. It was dark and damp and very chilly. There was no fire in the fire place, and the room was lightened not by electricity but by torches which were aligned along the walls. Harry wanted to ask why anyone would want to live here, but he held back his tongue. The last thing he wanted right now was to be kicked out before he even set his bag down.

In the living room, Snape turned to Harry. "If you are going to be living here, we need to set down a few ground rules. One, the only rooms you are permitted to enter is your bedroom, the bathroom, the dining room and the potions lab. This that clear?"

Harry nodded.

"Second," Snape continued, "you will not treat this house as a rubbish tip. I have seen the state of your room at the muggle's. One thing out of place and I will send you straight back to your relative's."

Again Harry nodded.

"Thirdly, you will not touch anything of mine. You had best get that unhealthy curiosity of yours under control, Potter, for if it begins to waver, you will be very sorry indeed."

"Yes, Sir, and thankyou,"

"Your thanks mean nothing to me. Your room is over there," Snape said, pointing to a room over at the far end of the living room. "Go!"

And Harry went.

Harry laid down in bed on his first night at Number 11 Privet Drive. He looked around the room to find it very sparse. The floor was a bare dusty stone, and the only furniture was the single bed he was currently laying on, a small simple style desk in one corner where he would do his studying and a 3 tier chest of drawers on another corner. There was no fireplace or any kind of heating. This might have been home for Snape, but Harry felt like he was in hell.

Harry decided he'd better get some sleep so he stood up to empty his pockets before removing his clothes. He found the letter he received earlier that evening, the first of two letters which were the cause of Harry's current predicament. Harry ripped open the letter in disgust, wanting to find out who he could to blame. It was a very short letter, and it was from Mark Evans.

_To Harry,_

_I really need to talk to you. I'll meet you at the convenience store on __Magnolia Crescent__ Monday at __9.00am__. Please come, it's important._

_Mark Evans_

'What on earth is this all about?' Harry thought. Mark seemed fairly worried which was strange because he sounded quite happy last time they met. Harry would go, of course.  His lessons didn't start until 1.00pm so he had plenty of time. Besides, he was very intrigued about what was going on with Mark Evans. Harry hoped that Mark would tell him what he did to Dudley. That knowledge might just make up for Harry's current mess. 

Harry changed into his pyjamas, pulled back the thin solitary blanket, and crawled into bed. Harry immediately began to shiver. In was colder in bed than it was out. Knowing he was in for a very long night, Harry laid back and tried not to let the thoughts of Snape, Mark Evans, his secret helper, and the bitter cold stop him from sleeping.

The next day, Harry simply couldn't remember what had possessed him to stay at Snape's, even if it was only a few days. The Dursley's were a breeze compared to this.

Whereas the Dursleys often ignored him by pretending he didn't exist, Snape watched him like a hawk. Harry felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells, and was yearning for the questionable peace at the Dursleys. Snape meant what he said about anything out of place. Harry had left a towel on the back of a chair, intending to pick it up after he tried to comb his unruly hair, and Snape pounced. ("You may like living in a doxy infestation, but I do not!") This was interesting as Harry managed to get a fleeting glimpse into Snape's private room earlier and it was worse than Harry's had been.

For most of the day, Harry stayed in his room. It wasn't exactly tranquil, but at least there was no Snape to offer a constant stream of criticism and insults. He used the time to study everything he had learnt over the summer, as the test was only a couple of days away. As a consolation, Harry could at least study magic openly without fear of repercussion.

That night, Harry wasn't exactly sure what had been served up to him for dinner, but it looked suspiciously like bat wings. 'He's eating his own kind?' Harry thought cruelly, then instantly regretted it when Snape's head suddenly jerked towards Harry's direction.

Knowing that he was probably making another momentous mistake, Harry decided he had to know who was helping him this summer. 

"Who sent me the note, sir?" Harry blurted out. He had intended to be more subtle that that.

Surprised, Snape said "What?"

"That note which came with the book. Who sent it to me?" Harry repeated.

Recovering, Snape replied, "It's none of your concern, Potter. Finish your dinner."

"Of course it's my concern, sir. There's been someone watching me all summer, and not the same way as last year when the order was trailing me. This person knows exactly what I am doing, what I need and when I need it. It's a little scary knowing someone is watching you all the time and I'd like to know who it is." Harry tried to emphasise how much he needed to know what was going on. "Sir," he quickly added.

"I assure you Potter, you don't need to worry. I've returned the book to the person in question and told her to keep her nose out of it."

"Her?"

Snape looked angry, "Stop prying into things that aren't any of your business. Sometimes there are reasons for the things we do, Potter."

"This is my business!" Harry snapped.

Snape, however, was not going to give in.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No. If she wanted you to know she'd tell you herself. Now finish your dinner."

Resigned, Harry did, in silence. He was counting down the days until this summer was over and he could return to Hogwarts.

**************************

**R&R**


	12. Results

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

**********************

**Chapter 12: Results**

Harry was waiting in front of the convenience store on Magnolia Crescent at 8.55 Monday morning. Harry had such a torrid time of it yesterday being under the perpetual gaze of Snape that he was glad to get away from Number 11 Privet Drive, even if it was just a few hours. 

After 10 minutes of waiting Harry began to feel disappointed as he was beginning to think that Mark wasn't going to show. He had been so full of anticipation this morning, anxious to hear what Mark had to talk to him about.

Just as Harry was about to leave, he saw Mark sauntering up the road. 

Feeling relieved, Harry called out, "Hi, Mark."

"Hey," Mark answered diffidently. Mark was sporting several small but angry red cuts along his left check.

"What happened?" Harry asked, shocked. 

"Nothing," Mark answered, "it's not important." Mark was shuffling his feet, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. In was plain to see that there was something very wrong here.

"Of course it's important." Harry insisted. Then going for the most obvious answer, Harry asked, "Was it Dudley?" 

Mark shook his head, his shoulder-length red hair swaying with the movement. "No, not Dudley."

 "Who then?" Harry demanded. If there was someone beating up on Mark, Harry wanted to know about it.

"Look can we just drop it, ok?" Mark snapped.

Harry just stared at Mark for a few moments. Whatever happened to him, it was clearly painful to think about. Harry decided to let it go, for now. "Yeah, sure. What was it you wanted to talk about?" 

Mark seemed a little relieved but still bit his lip and smiled nervously. "I don't really know where to start."

This was an easy one for Harry. He knew exactly where he wanted Mark to begin. "Maybe you can start by telling me what happened between you and Dudley?" Harry offered with a slight smile. This seemed to be a very idea as Mark's face suddenly lit up in a huge grin.

"Well, I was coming home from school. Dudley was with his gang as usual. They followed me and when no-one was looking Piers grabbed me so that Dudley could punch me in the stomach. It's happened before." Mark paused and looked shyly up to Harry. Harry nodded. He knew exactly what Mark was talking about, as Dudley used to use Harry as his punching bag. 

Harry indicated to Mark to continue. "Well, something just happened. I kind of made Dudley fly twenty feet through the air and he landed in a pile of cow dung in the Bardon's paddock. It was pretty funny. The cow took one look at Dudley and charged. Dudley ran for it but he was too slow. The cow bucked him in the backside and he was hurled over the fence." Mark chuckled. Harry burst out laughing himself.

"I wish I was there. That would … have been … hilarious!" Harry was gasping for breath he was laughing so hard.

After they both calmed down, Mark continued. "I didn't know what happened but Dudley seemed to and he ran away." Mark paused, looking thoughtful. "Strange things have been happening to me for a while, you know? I didn't know it was magic until I got my letter."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I went through the same thing. Don't worry. You'll be able to control it in no time. Hogwarts is excellent." Harry reassured him.

Mark stared off into the distance, clearly disturbed.

Harry could sense that they were coming close to the purpose of this meeting. "What is it Mark? Why are we here?"

Mark just looked to the ground. "It's hard."

"Whatever it is, I'll help." Harry said, and he meant it. 

"I hope so, but I'm not sure if you can." Mark replied.

"Try me." Harry challenged.

Mark sighed. Harry leaned forward, not wanting to miss anything. "It's my dad. He doesn't want me to go to Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"He … he hates magic." Mark stammered, looking down.

Harry sympathised, but tried very hard not to roll his eyes. He got enough of this sort of attitude from the Dursleys. "I know how that feels. The Dursleys hate magic too."

"This is different. He really hates it. He said that my grandmother went insane because of magic and if I went to Hogwarts then I'd go insane too."

"Look, I don't know what happened to your grandmother, but I promise, going to Hogwarts won't drive you insane. It's really great there." Harry insisted. 'If you discount the three-headed dogs, illegal dragons, blast-ended skrewts, fully grown giants in the forest, and evil dark lords,' Harry mentally added.

Mark was unconvinced.

"You can trust me, Mark. What is really going on, and I will do everything I can to help you."

"Well, I got my letter a few weeks back. I was really excited. Finally, there was a reason for all the things that have happened. But when dad found out, he went ballistic."

A horrible thought just occurred to Harry. "Did he give you the cuts?"

"NO!" Mark declared, firmly. "My dad's fantastic. He would never hurt me!" Harry could see Mark's anger that he would even think of something like this. 

"Okay, I'm sorry, please continue." Harry tried to backtrack a little. 

Mark glared angrily at Harry for a few moments and Harry was half afraid that Mark would storm off, but then he continued.

"We argued. Dad insisted that I not go to Hogwarts, but I really want to, you know?" Harry nodded. "During the argument, I accidentally exploded the glassware." Mark said shamefully. "I didn't mean to." He insisted. Harry realised the source of Mark's cut face. "Dad copped a few glass pieces as well. It was horrible. But dad at least realised that I have to go to Hogwarts to learn to control the magic. He won't let me stay there for the entire time, just until I can control it."

"He's still pretty scared. He gave me this." Mark said, handing over what seemed to be a small diary.

"It belonged to my grandmother. Dad gave it to me to read as a warning about what magic can do to people."

Harry took the diary, but he wasn't sure what to do with it. "Are you sure you want me to read this? It seems too personal."

"Yes. I need to know what is going on, what happened to her. This is the only clue I have. I don't know anyone else who can help."

"I'm not really sure what I can do."

Mark looked desolate. "Okay, sorry for bothering you." And Mark started to walk off.

Harry grabbed Mark by the arm, and Mark cried out in pain.

"Sorry," Harry said.

"It's ok, just another cut." Mark consoled, rubbing his injured arm.

"Sorry," Harry repeated. "Like I said, I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll try. I've got a couple of friends at Hogwarts. Ron, Hermione and I have been through a lot together. And Hermione is the most brilliant witch at Hogwarts. Maybe between the three of us we can work out what happened to your grandmother."

That cheered Mark up a little. "Thanks."

**************

After enduring one of the worst summers he has ever had, this was the day that will tell if it was all worth it. Pass or fail, it was all over. Harry was sitting in his room at Number 11 Privet Drive, doing some last minute cramming. Harry felt confident that he was more competent in potions than what he was a few months ago when he sat his owls, but whether he was good enough to achieve an 'O' grade was yet to be seen.

At precisely 8.55 am, Snape stepped into his room. "Time for your test, Mr Potter," and he promptly swept out again.

Harry followed, thinking of his notes over and over in his mind. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life.

Snape led Harry into the large dining room, where he had Harry's test sheet out ready.

"Three hours, Mr Potter." Snape said and sat down at a small table that he had set up as a desk on the right side of the room.

Harry walked over to the dining table and sat down on the chair in front of his test sheet. He started to read through the questions for the theoretical portion of his test. The first thing he noticed is that many of the questions were different from the owl test, and not for the better. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Snape had seen Harry's owl test, and deliberately removed all of the questions that Harry was able to answer well. 

Still, the questions weren't that bad and felt that he could answer with greater understanding than he did last time. Harry grabbed a quill, dipped it in the ink, and started writing.

Two and a half hours later, Harry had finished the test, reread and corrected some mistakes, and was currently rechecking his answers for the third time. He really wanted to do well. He knew a couple of his answers were weak, but he did as well has he could, and felt he had produced a strong test overall. 

"Professor Snape. I'm finished." Harry said, satisfied with his answers.

Snape was clearly surprised that Harry was able to finish early. He rose and walked toward Harry. He picked up Harry's test by the corner, using only his thumb and forefinger, as if it was a disgusting piece of trash.

"Very well, Mr Potter, you can begin the practical part of the examination, while I correct _this_." And Snape walked over to his desk, and started marking.

The potion he had to make was a clarifying draught, and it was more difficult to make than the potion from his owl. This time, Snape had left him the instructions. Harry didn't stop to wonder why Snape left the instructions but simply thanked Merlin that he did. Harry gathered all the ingredients and started chopping.

One hour later, Harry knew that he had followed the instructions to the letter, yet the potion wasn't the colour or texture it was supposed to be. He checked and double checked the instructions. Harry could not work out what went wrong. As much as he hated doing this, he had to admit to Snape what had happened.

"Sir?" Harry started.

Snape, having finished marking Harry's theoretical exam, got up to see how Harry was doing with his potion. He took one look at the potion and smirked.

"Well, well, this won't do at all." Snape said. "Were anyone to drink this concoction, they would be instantly poisoned."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know what happened. I can try again." Harry hoped, but not believing for a second that Snape would give him a second chance. Dread started to well up in the pit of his stomach.

"That won't be necessary, Mr Potter. Did you follow the instructions?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well that was your problem, Potter."

Harry's head snapped in Snape's direction. "What!? You gave me the wrong instructions?" He was starting to get angry.

"Mr Potter, calm yourself," Snape said, and if Harry didn't know any better, he'd say Snape was smiling. He was clearly enjoying this.

"Had you studied the material properly, you would have realised that the instructions was missing a crucial step. This is owls, Potter, not a first year exam. You are expected to think about what you are doing."

"So you're going to fail me?"

 "As much pleasure as doing so would give me, no I am not. If I don't grade you properly, the headmaster will grade you for me."

"And you'll miss out on teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Harry accused.

Snape glared at Harry for awhile before admitting, "Yes."

Snape began working out Harry's grade. Although feeling some hope since Snape had to grade fairly, that crucial mistake he made could very well have cost him his chances of becoming an Auror.

Unfortunately, this proved to be true.

Snape looked up at Harry with the most pleasant look Harry had ever seen on his sallow face. Harry's heart dropped. "Mr Potter, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have received an 'E'."

**************************

**R&R**


	13. Rewards

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

**********************

**Chapter 13: Rewards**

Harry was quite depressed on the train to Hogwarts on the 1st of September. He had only received an 'E'. He put up with Snape's cold condescending words and constant stream of criticisms all summer. All the hard work had been for nothing. And for the first time ever, he did not achieve what he set out to achieve. Sure, he had failures in the past, but when he really put his mind to something, he always made it. But not this time.

Ron and Hermione tried talking to him several times, but after receiving a series of the briefest of answers, they gave up. Not even the traditional taunting from Malfoy could deter Harry from his detachment.

When the depressing train ride finished, Harry, Ron and Hermione endured an equally depressing carriage ride to Hogwarts gates, and approached the front door to greet a smiling McGonagall. Harry wondered what put McGonagall in such a good mood, as she rarely smiles so openly.

"Mr Potter, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you before the feast." McGonagall said with her traditional stern demeanour, but with a glint of warmth in her eyes. 

"Er, Okay," Harry replied, not sure what to make of this. 'He probably just wants to say how disappointed in me he is. Yeah, that's it. He's just disappointed because he gave me this chance, and I blew it'.

Head bowed, Harry slowly walked to Dumbledore's office, negative words permeating his thoughts. When Harry reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, he noticed that someone else had just arrived.

'Oh God, not him. Anyone but him.' Harry was thinking that his day could not get any worse.

"Good evening, Mr Potter. Did you have a pleasant trip?" Professor Snape sneered sarcastically, with a very pleased expression on his face.

Harry forced himself to be cheerful. "Excellent, Professor Snape. And you?"

Snape glared at him. "It would be wise for you to think twice before giving me cheek, Mr Potter. Unless you want to lose house points five minutes into arriving. We _are_ at Hogwarts now."

Snape and Harry stared at each other for some minutes before Snape finally turned towards the gargoyle and said, "Peppermint Humbug."

As usual, the gargoyle stepped aside, allowing them to pass. Silently, they both made their way to the headmaster's office.

When Snape and Harry arrived at the top of the winding staircase, they found Dumbledore's office door wide open. They entered, Snape feeling elated, and Harry grim.

"Ah, there you are, Severus, Harry. Do come in and sit down. We have much to discuss." Dumbledore said smiling, ushering them to the two seats in front of his desk. Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk and looked at them both, his eyes twinkling.

Harry was quite confused. He had been sure that Dumbledore would be disappointed in Harry for blowing his chance to become an Auror, but here he was, as happy as a niffler in a gold mine.

"I suppose you are both wondering why you are here?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape inclined head briefly, while Harry said "Yes, sir."

They were both quite disturbed with the headmaster's happy disposition. Snape, because he knew that whenever the headmaster was in this sort of mood, nothing good ever comes out of it for him. He still distinctly remembers his last meeting with Dumbledore, the one which was the cause of his terrible summer. Harry, however, was disturbed because he couldn't understand how the headmaster was so pleased with Harry's failure.

Dumbledore, to the displeasure of both Snape and Harry, decided to play this mysteriously. "How were your potions lessons over the summer, Harry?"

Harry, not trusting himself to speak in case he said exactly what was on his mind, merely gave the headmaster the briefest of smiles. Dumbledore, realising that he wasn't going to get more of an answer, continued.

"The results of your test indicate that you achieved an 'E' grade. Well done, Harry."

"But it's still not good enough is it?" blurted Harry, before he could stop himself.

Meanwhile, Snape smirked at Harry, clearly enjoying he's discomfort.

Dumbledore continued, this time addressing Snape. "Severus, you have always done everything that I have ever asked, and for this I am profoundly grateful." Dumbledore handed Snape an envelope, which he quickly opened. After he read through the letters contents, Snape smiled. At least Harry thought it was a smile. He had never seen a smile on Snape's face before so he couldn't be sure. It seemed alien somehow.

Snape looked up at the headmaster and said, "Thankyou, headmaster. I accept the position. And what will happen with Professor Morgan?"

"Oh, yes. Professor Morgan. Since you will from now on be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, this leaves me in the awkward position of finding a new Potions Professor." Snape quickly jerked his head toward Dumbledore, but before he had a chance to speak, Dumbledore said, "It would be far too much for me to expect you to teach both Potions and Defense against the Dark Arts, Severus. Fortunately, I always had confidence in you to complete the task I set you, so I asked Professor Morgan if she would like to teach potions instead."

The colour started to drain out of Snape's face; at least whatever colour there was there to begin with. Harry looked at Snape suspiciously. Clearly, he knew something that Harry did not.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and smiled. "As you should know, it is the Professor teaching the advanced class whose chooses what level the students must be at to be accepted." Dumbledore looked at Harry pointedly, attempting to pass on the yet unspoken information to Harry, but he needn't have bothered, as Harry's insides were already swooping with joy.

"So this means I can do Advanced Potions? I can still be an Auror? The new Potions Professor will accept me?" Harry asked excitedly, the questions coming a mile a minute.

Dumbledore chuckled inwardly, pleased to see his charge so happy. "Yes Harry, Professor Morgan is happy to accept any student who achieves an 'E' or higher."

With this, Harry grinned broadly, and had to use all the strength he could muster to not leap over the desk and give the headmaster a crushing hug.

Snape was looking murderous. "If you'll excuse me, Headmaster, I believe I must have a few words with the new _Potions Professor." Snape spat out the word Potions, and swept out of the room._

"Well Harry, I trust the feast will be starting soon, and we should all be in attendance."

---

Five minutes later Harry joined Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table just as the sorting was about to begin. Ron and Hermione were pleasantly surprised by Harry's change in demeanour. 

"What did Dumbledore want?" Ron asked, wanting to know what has made Harry so happy.

"Snape isn't teaching potions anymore." Harry replied.

"What!? So we don't have to put up with the greasy git anymore?" Ron started to celebrate, but then Harry said, "Don't get too excited, he'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Ron's excitement immediately started to deflate.

Harry continued, "And since Snape isn't teaching potions, I can take Advanced Potions. I can still become an Auror!"

Ron and Hermione immediately felt happy for Harry. They both know what becoming an Auror means to him.

"Hi, Harry," said someone to Harry's right. Harry turned to see a much happier Mark Evans than what he was the other day.

"I've just been sorted into Gryffindor." Mark informed them and sat down next to Harry.

"Ron, Hermione, we have another mystery to solve this year …" and Harry told an eagerly listening Ron and Hermione about Mark's situation.

---

After the feast, Professor McGonagall stopped Harry while he was on his way back to the dormitories.

"A word, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said tiredly. He was worn out from the severe clash of emotions he'd felt today, first the feeling of failure, then the later elation.

Professor McGonagall led Harry to her office. She turned to him and smiled. "Congratulations, Mr Potter. Your ambitions of becoming an Auror are still open to you."

"Thankyou Professor," was all Harry could think of to say.

Professor McGonagall's normally stern look changed to one of affection for Harry, a motherly kind of affection.

"That's all, Harry, goodnight."

Harry turned to leave, but then a sudden thought struck him.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"Well, all throughout the summer, strange things kept happening. It happened first with Uncle Vernon, when he allowed me to take the 'job'. Someone was there, in the shadows, I'm sure of it. This person also sent me a book to help with my homework. And I was rescued from Uncle Vernon. Someone was there watching me, helping me."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Didn't I tell you last year that I would help you to become an Auror if it was the last thing I did? It was I who convinced Professor Dumbledore to allow you to have some tutoring over summer to begin with. Mind you, he didn't need much convincing."

Harry was stunned. Everything that happened over the summer, it was Professor McGonagall!

 "Why didn't you tell me you were there?" Harry asked. He was a little hurt about this, as he had been starting to get a little afraid. Harry ignored the fact that Snape had told him twice not to worry about it.

McGonagall started to look uncomfortable, and a pink flush rose on her cheeks. "I wasn't supposed to be there, you see. Professor Dumbledore had ordered me to spend the school holidays on vacation, to have some rest. If he had have found out I was there, well let's just say it wouldn't have been pleasant. The truth is, Potter, no-one was supposed to know that you were being tutored over the summer, and especially that the tutor was Severus. It could have been very dangerous were anyone to find out."

"Why? I still have my family's protection, don't I?" Harry asked.

"Not dangerous for you, Harry. Or at least, not _any more dangerous for you." McGonagall answered. _

"It was too dangerous for Snape?" Harry had a whole mindful of questions he wanted to ask from this little revelation.

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry, and I can't tell you any more than that." Professor McGonagall said sternly, and Harry knew this was the end of that part of the conversation. But Harry had to know one more thing.

"Okay, Professor. What about when Snape let me stay with him for a few days?"

"No, Harry, not even I could make Professor Snape do something like that."

Harry left Professor McGonagall's office shortly thereafter, feeling both elated and confused. His mind was swirling with questions. Why was it so dangerous for Snape to be at Surrey, and what _did_ happen to Mark's grandmother? Already at the start of the year there were mysteries to solve. Harry chuckled to himself. 'Yep', he thought, 'just another normal year at Hogwarts.'

THE END

**************************

**R&R**

Author's Note:

Okay, the sequel will be coming in a couple of months. I am still in planning mode so if there is anything that you feel I should have developed further or things that I left out feel free to let me know. The new Potions Professor and Mark Evans are major players in the sequel. Having said this I should stress that I will stay with canon characters for the most part, and the story will be in Harry's perspective like this one. It will be another mystery for the dream team to solve.

I want to take this last opportunity to once again thank all those who reviewed, and all those who put me on there list of favourites. I have been taking notice. I hope I see you all again for the sequel.

Cheers,

Veserus.


End file.
